The Last, the Lost, the Least
by smileyfox5150
Summary: The silhouette stiffened. “Out of my way, mouseboy.” Nathaniel felt his heart tighten, his grip on Martin’s Sword following suit. He shifted his paws in the grass, his mouth dry as he whispered the fateful words. “No.” FULL SUMMARY INSIDE!
1. WRITE

**BONJOUR! It's shiny, it's new, and it's BACK! Shoopdawoop! I set this after Mariel of Redwall, maybe, oh, 25 years later. What happens in the other books doesn't count here! I did get the title idea from a song by Relient k, but I can assure you that this is in no way a song-fic!**

**This story is written in multi-chapter format, and is currently in-progress. It will wave three 'parts', I might later on decide to split it into three separate stories but I'm not sure yet. In the story, the prankster son of Dandin and Mariel crosses the path of a dangerous but misunderstood vixen, and together, along with his otter friend, they embark on a 'journey' that changes both their lives for better… or for worse? The truth can only hide for so long…**

**Disclaimer – Are the canon charries mine? No. Are the OC charries mine? Yes. If'n ya want to use them in one of your own stories, ask first!**

**Summary – The silhouette stiffened. "Out of my way, mouseboy." Nathaniel felt his heart tighten, his grip on Martin's Sword following suit. He shifted his paws in the grass, his mouth dry as he whispered the fateful words. "No." FULL SUMMARY INSIDE!**

**Written in – Third-person omniscient.**

**Screen-play – Like in the TV series, but with more detail and contrast in color.**

**Current Chapter Guide –**

**1 – Write**

**2 – Laugh**

**3 – Run**

4 – Plot

**(Parts** **not in bold**** are Horde chapters. You'll understand what I mean as you read!)**

**-==-**

**So here ya go…**

**The Last, the Lost, the Least!**

* * *

Old stories told by travelers,  
Great songs that bards have sung,  
Of Mossflower's summers, faded, gone,  
When Redwall's stones were young.  
Great Hall fires on winter nights,  
The legends, who remembers,  
Battles, banquets, comrades, quests,  
Recalled midst glowing embers.  
Draw close now, little woodlander,  
Take this to sleep with you,  
My tale of dusty far-off times,  
When warrior hearts were true.  
Then store it in your memory,  
And be the sage who says  
To the young ones in the years to come:  
"Ah yes, those were the days."

* * *

_We all, we all wear dignity._

_It covers the strong, the weak._

_We all, we all wear dignity._

_Even the last, the lost, the least. _

_- Reliant k, The Last, the Lost, the Least. _

-=WRITE=-

"My, I am getting too old for this!"

Abbot Saxtus pushed up his glasses as he fumbled with the heavy key ring. "It's much too late for any soul to be awake, if only I had remembered earlier…"

The Abbot mumbled to himself as he inserted another key into the gatehouse lock. "Drat, not again!" He squinted in the dim light, thankful for warm spring nights and the moon. He fit the last key in, and sighed in relief when he heard a satisfied _click_. "Finally." He pulled back the thick oak-wood door and reached in, blindly groping for the flint he knew was atop the small table to the side. He clutched the jagged stones and moved his hand an inch more to the right, following the smooth glass until he felt the metal hinge that kept the lamp closed. He opened that and struck the flint, and his pupils expanded as the light grew. He cleared his throat, placing the rock back and setting the key ring beside it. Abbot Saxtus closed his paw around the metal hoop that served at the lamp's handle. He smiled as the flame threw warm color over orderly shelves of rolls of script and his own not so orderly desk. The Abbot swept aside scraps of yellow parchment to clear a space, and selected a clean paper and quill and ink from one of the desk drawers. He pulled up a stool and bent over his work, his eyes merry as the words formed on the page.

_From the writings of Abbot Saxtus;_

_Two Moon Spring._

_Here I am, again! Writing at some godforsaken hour because I forgot to do so earlier! But, that can't be helped, can it? Comes naturally with old age, they say. Hmph, Brother Siemon never has this much trouble… No matter. I must stop myself from rambling on like this! If I don't, I fear the gatehouse may have to bear its first paper shortage! _

The Abbot chuckled to himself at the thought.

_Now, you may be wondering why we have named this season Two Moon Spring. The most astounding thing happened, one week ago tonight, if my memory serves me correctly. Our Abbey was graced by the appearance of a second full moon! Mother Mellus told me that in badger lore, the blue moon (Which is their name for the second moon.) symbolizes truth. She even warned me to be, as she put it, 'careful hiding [my] dirty old man secrets!' You can imagine the look on my face… I believe she's getting worse with age, as well, but you didn't hear it from me! _

His lips cracked in a tiny smile, which easily pulled into a frown.

_On heavier matters, there has been a death. Abbot Bernard, rest his soul, passed in his sleep, little more than a day before the blue moon. He entrusted me with a rather strange parcel, cube-shaped and small enough to fit in my paw, with instructions that I give it to Nathaniel on his eighteenth birthday. Why he would want to give that troublemaker anything, I'll never know._

His eyes widened in remembrance, and the quill moved faster.

_That's right! I cannot believe I forgot this as well! To my bemusement, the wandering duo has returned! Joseph was so excited, he practally pushed the gate open by himself! What a feast that was, celebrating Dandin and Mariel's triumphant homecoming and matrimony. _

Abbot Saxtus licked his lips, fondly reminiscing the flavor.

_They had gotten married while camping with an eastern tribe of otters. They were helping fight off some vermin, I'll have to ask them which. Why, they even had Nathaniel during their stay! He was so sweet when he was a babe. He was about a year or so old when they returned, and I believe he recently turned sixteen. Do the years fly… He and his rascal friend Thatcher can't seem to avoid mischief. No matter how many punishments Mellus gives them, you can rest assured they'll be at it again tomorrow. Perserverant and stubborn, just like his parents. Hm, Mariel is the only one who ever seems to have a handle on that boy. Dandin dosne't bother to scold him, but then again, Dandin was always a lover of trouble himself. _

_To conclude, I feel the summer wind coming in strong. Crops have lept, as have the spirits of the Abbey-dwellers. I cannot help but think something else is afoot, something just seems… out of place. Maybe not, but… I believe this season will bring… things we are not ready for… _

He put down the quill with a sigh. "That's enough, I suppose."

He rolled up the parchment, fished a piece of twine out of a drawer to tie it up, and slipped it into an already stuffed cubby.

He shuffled outside and locked the door behind him, glancing up at the half gone moon.

"Yes, this season promises to be very… interesting. Martin, I certainly do hope you know what you are doing…"

He adjusted his spectacles and began to walk toward the tall shadow that was Redwall Abbey. The grass was cool undertow, misted with the first signs of morning dew. He turned the Abbey doorknob, and gave one last look at the heavens.

"Yes, interesting…"

* * *

**What do you think? It's better than the old intro, and sets the rest of the story up easier. FORESHADOWING, YES! That wasn't gone for long, now was it? In the next chapter, well… All I can say is there's gonna be flour, trouble, and one VERY angry badger! MUAHA! I'm back and bad as ever! Remember to review, it keeps me going! **

**Until next time,**

**smileyfox148**


	2. LAUGH

**smileyfox5150: First, I want to say thanks to all my readers who have stayed with me so far! Second, I have to thank Mariel of Redwall for two things: Being an awesome beta and not being mad when I used her character, Sister Heather, in my story! I also changed my username to smileyfox5150, but that;s no biggie. Other than that, I truly honestly have nothing more to say here. This really dosen't feel like the second chapter, it feels like the fifth, at least, with all the time I spend on it. And just so y'all know, you're not getting another disclaimer. ONE PER STORY, OKAY? I really hope you enjoy this imput, and please review! Make sure to check my profile for updates on the next chapter. **

* * *

_Gravity, release me._

_And don't ever hold me down._

_Now my feet won't touch_

_The ground. _

_- Coldplay, Life in Technicolor II._

-=LAUGH=-

"Nathaniel Joseph Bellmaker, you get your dirty tail over here this _minuet_!" A harsh voice roared.

_Bang!_

The sudden sound of wood doors slammed against red sandstone caused a small flock of sparrows to take flight from their roost in the rafters. In the empty doorway was a seething Mother Mellus. She growled, swinging her head from side to side in search of the aforementioned criminal. Flakes of flour dislodged from her fur and flitted to the ground like grey butterflies. She narrowed her beady eyes and wiped more of the white stuff from her once yellow apron.

"Thatcher Bourne! You underhanded otter! Of all the ungrateful, devilish beasts…!"

Her rampage resounded throughout the usually peaceful Redwall Abbey courtyard, bouncing off the hard crimson walls.

The wind blew across the lawn, making the long grass sway. The many trees inside and out of the Abbey's walls felt the gust as well, their leaves rustling like so many birds. A canary hopped from its perch in a fruit tree, an unripe apple in its beak. It swooped low over the lake, depositing the green fruit into clear blue. It settled to the bottom without a sound, the ripple that marked its existence had already faded. A calico carp swan around it, paying little attention to the hard produce. The strawberry patches grew tall and dense, overflowing with berries. This spring had proved unusually abundant with the sweet, red fruit. Quiet wildflowers grew in the shadow of the wall, though just moments before, they had been bent under the weight of two sets of hushed paws.

"Ah, she's gonna 'ave our heads for this, matey!" A voice sounded.

The first set of paws turned on the second. "Shh! We're almost in the clear!"

"Aye aye, convict!" the voice said playfully.

"Thatcher, this is serious!" the leading beast hissed, "Y'know that I can't get caught again! I'm at the end of m' rope!"

"Bah, Nathaniel, you're too serious sometimes! 'Ave some fun, `ey?" chuckled the following voice, giving the leading beast a shove.

"How's this for fun?" The leading grabbed the following by his collar and shoved him into the light between two rows of strawberries. The following, Thatcher, grinned evilly and pulled the first, Nathaniel, out with him.

"A little better! Try this on for size!" Thatcher exclaimed.

Thatcher spun Nathaniel to the ground – forgetting to release his grip. Nathaniel went with the force, rolling over his head and pulling Thatcher down behind him. Thatcher swept his arm at Nathaniel's feet, who had jumped just in time with a victorious grin.

"Game over," Nathaniel said smugly.

Thatcher flipped onto his back, and was about to get up when Nathaniel put a foot on his throat with a smirk. "Fun enough for ya?"

Thatcher smirked back, pushing Nathaniel's foot aside to stand. "I'd say that fits the criteria. But look, you got my tunic all dirty! Sister Heather's gonna 'ave a hell ova time getting these out!"

Nathaniel looked down at his own clothing and groaned. "These were supposed to last me until Friday…"

Their clothes were indeed trashed. Thatcher's light blue vest was stained green to match his eyes. His normally slick chocolate otter fur stuck up in all the right places. He was orphaned at the Abbey years ago, and grew up alongside Nathaniel. He had earned his name from the fact that even at an early age he could fix, build, and create just about anything. He was the best carpenter Redwall had ever seen, and quite proud of it.

Nathaniel was a mouse of his own. For some strange reason, he had never looked at all like either of his parents, but no one could doubt he was his father's son. He had too much good-natured spirit in him to be anything else. He possessed ruddy maroon eyes, tawny fur and dark footpaws and pads. His attire was simple, brown pants and an off-white (now dusty and grass-stained) pheasant shirt. It was his size, though, that set him off from the others. He was a tall mouse, the same height as Thatcher, and had already passed his parts and granddad. Not by much, but every inch counts!

"GET OUT HERE!"

Both boys ducked when they heard the roar of the badgermum, falling flat behind the bush. Thatcher was still full of silent laughter, which only increased when he caught sight of Mellus. He elbowed his partner in crime.

"Ay, would you look at that; `blasted contraption worked!" There was a pause. "Say it," the otter grinned devilishly.

Nathaniel flashed a toothy grin. "Never."

Thatcher wrestled him into a headlock. "Say it!"

"Nope!" The mouse shook his head defiantly.

"Say it!" Thatcher tightened the headlock.

"Thatch, she's comin' this way! Lay off!" Nathaniel struggled to release himself.

"Not until you say it!" The otter argued with a laugh.

"No!"

"A'right, your loss," Thatcher smirked, "Guess you'll be doin' chores fer th' rest o' your life."  
"Fine!" Nathaniel huffed. He stopped struggling and mumbled something under his breath.

"What's that, Nat? Couldn't hear you!" Thatcher sang.

"I _said_ you're a mmmhmm."

"Louder! Mellus is commin' close!"

"You're a genius! A genius! There! I said it. You happy?"

Thatcher let go of his exasperated friend with a triumphant grin, "Very."

"You know I only live to serve, your high-and-mighty-ness." Nathaniel replied, with a mock bow.

Thatcher took on a composed stance and a British accent. "My lowly subject, what ever made you think of that?"

"Hm, yes, quite a mystery," Nathaniel continued the charade. "Now if you don't mind I suggest we head for the clear, my good man."

"I believe that sounds perfectly in order." The otter twitched his nose as only a hare would.

"On three?" The mouse inquired.

"I don't see why not." The otter shrugged.

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"

The two took off, dashing through rows of strawberries towards the safety of the orchard. Nathaniel arrived in the coppice first, and quickly scaled a tree. When Thatcher ran underneath him, he let down his paw for the otter to grab hold of and swing up. When they were both on a safe branch, Nathaniel glanced back to their last hideout.

He elbowed Thatcher, "Got out just in time, I'd say."

Mellus was tearing through the bushes they had been in minutes before, unaware that she was adding splashes of red to her white façade.

The criminals slapped high fives, before simultaneously dropping to the ground. They set off to their next hiding place with an ease accomplished from many years of practice. Nathaniel grinned at the otter at his side, "Tunnel 404?"

Thatcher nodded knowingly, "404."

"NATHANIEL!"

They quickened their pace, the grass giving way to dirt and hard sand. The sun reflected in front of them revealed their destination - the Abbey pond. It had many uses; fresh water, fresh fish, relaxing atmosphere… oh, did they mention the underwater tunnel? That too.

_Those moles,_ thought Nathaniel with a smirk, _Amazing with construction but not with remembering where they dug. Ah, well, better for us! _

Thatcher pushed ahead, reaching the overturned beached rowboat first. He dove, sliding through a common opening in the boat's side. The rotten thing was dug far into the dirt, the hull riddled with holes. The mouse followed close behind. He ducked into the craft, blinking a few times to allow his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. He found the wooden barrel top that served as tunnel 404's closure cast aside, loose dirt and leaves scattered around. Without a thought he lowered himself into the depths of the tunnel, careful to replace the cover. He felt his footpaw touch the steps they had gouged into the cool granite wall, but went for the quicker way down and jumped. He landed on the inky floor without more than a dull _thump_.

"Thatch?" he called. "Hey, Thatcher!" He rubbed his forehead. "Don't tell me that damned otter took off on me…"

He jumped into the air with a yelp when he felt something touch his shoulder. Nathaniel spun, immediately relieved to see the illuminated face of his friend.

"'Ello!" said the otter.

Nathaniel rolled his eyes, but did a double take and stared blankly at Thatcher, gesturing at the lantern in his hand. "How—?"

The otter cut him off and hefted the lamp higher. "Shh, it's a secret," he cautioned.

"…"

Thatcher stared at Nathaniel's emotionless visage. He blinked once, twice, and took off down the tunnel screaming, "For Narnia!"

"…" This did not help the mouse's confusion, but he followed anyway with a sigh.

-==-

_Above ground…_

-==-

Mellus clenched her fists, muttering curses under her breath. The flour had dried, etching unnatural creases in her fur. "When I get my hands on _you_…" She threw a punch at the tree closest to her, a small dent appearing in the bark. The tree shook, sending an apple down to spite the badgermum.

"Ow!"

Mellus rubbed her head, kicking at the hard produce. "Stupid things. Not even ripe yet an' they're fallin'." She sighed, touching her paw to the indent halfheartedly.

"Ma?"

A voice came from her left, just deep enough to be male. She smiled a bit and looked to the voice's owner.

"Ah, Loic Pomeroy, dear. How are you?"

The small mouse nodded. "Fine. And, if you're wondering…" He pulled his hands from behind his back. In one was a red delicious. "Apples are easier to find when you're _in_ the tree, not below it!" Loic smiled warmly, stretching the pale scar that was etched into his cheek. Mellus couldn't help but take the apple with a grin. Brown fur, brown eyes, small frame and long tail; the perfect traits of a true-bred French mouse.

His mouth turned down. "Ma, if you don't mind me asking…" He looked her up and down, his eyes completing the question.

"_Those two_ happened."

Loic nodded again. "I see," He extended a paw in offering. "If there's any way I could help, I-" Mellus cut him off, angry fire burning in her eyes once more. "Yes! Search the Abbey! And summon Abbot Saxtus! Hurry, now!" Loic nodded yet again in affirmation, and allowed Mellus to push him towards the red walls. The badger stormed off in the other direction, towards the pond.

"If I can't find them now," she muttered, "then they deserve to get off!"

-==-

_In the tunnel…_

-==-

Nathaniel pressed forward, groping in the dark and muttering curses under his breath. "Thatch, left me all alone down 'ere… and that damn lamp of his… God!" He found what he was looking for - an old rope ladder - and scaled it hastily. _I don't see how, _he thought, _this could go bad… Unless Ma has Loic helpin' her. But… _He sighed. _With my luck, she pro'bly does… _Nathaniel pulled himself up into another chamber, this time made of brown sandstone instead of black granite. Reed torches were secured in the wall every few yards, and showed signs of being recently lit. He looked around, and caught sight of his friend, slumped on the ground not too far along the winding passageway.

"Hey, getup Thatch, move your tail," he huffed.

The otter stirred, faking a yawn. He rubbed his eyes drearily. "Wha' took you so long? Made me fall asleep, dammit."

They locked eyes for a minute.

Nathaniel sighed, "You frustrate me."

The otter winked in return. "I can live with that."

-==-

_In the Abbey…_

-==-

Jun Glasgow, a mousemaid of around 15 years, strolled absentmindedly down the main hall of Redwall Abbey. She glanced up, allowing her hen's egg brown eyes to scan the majestic tapestry of the fearless Martin the Warrior for but a moment. She adjusted a basket covered by a cloth in the crook of her arm. From where she had come, an otter of similar age ran up to her, carrying a similar case which she displayed before they went on together, chatting as only best friends can.

After they had disappeared from sight and sound, a tentative shudder rippled throughout the tapestry as the bottom right hand corner was lifted. The devilish duo slithered across the hall, making sure to almost run over the two girls. They breezed past, all smiles at their shocked expressions. Thatcher even stole a kiss on the cheek from Opa, the otter. He winked and dragged her along. "Come, m'lady! Be my bonnie bride!"

Opa huffed, smacking him on the back of the head with her free hand to send him sailing.

Nathaniel laughed and waved behind him, "Catch ya later, girls!"

Jun giggled, her cheeks reddening.

Opa snapped her fingers in front of Jun's face a few times. "Honey," she scolded, "the last thing you need is a lazy slacker like him knockin' at yer door. And trust me, I know." She straightened the hem of her pinafore with a smirk. "That Thatcher's been callin' for me since we were pups."

Jun furrowed her brow. "But then, why not give him a chance, O? He's funny, and skilled, and—"

"And not to be tied down! Jun, I'm looking for 'Mr. Right', and I won't find him runnin' away dreamin' about how to snitch the silverware, then build some contraption outta it!"

Jun exhaled with a small "Oh."

Opa rolled her eyes and hooked her arm through Jun's. "Don't get down on me! At least your man has a steady head on his shoulders, oh, le'ssay half the time. Now, do you want to go see Nathaniel get away or not?"

Jun broke away, eyes full of surprise. "But – I thought – didn't you say that—"

"Yes, he's trouble," the otter replied, "But I never said it isn't fun to watch!"

Jun's entire face brightened with a smile, "Right!"

-==-

_Elsewhere in the Abbey…_

-==-

_Knock knock knock!_

"Hmm?"

Abbot Saxtus didn't bother to look up from the papers he was shuffling through. "Yes, come in," he stated without hurry.

"Father Abbot!" A small brown mouse stood in the doorway, tail flicking back and forth with anticipation.

The Abbot peered over his glasses and sniffed. There was no mistaking that mouse, the scar was a dead giveaway. "Ah, Loic, hello. This is a pleasant surprise; I was expecting Sister Heather, she was supposed to help me clean what is left of my office." He chuckled at his own joke. The room was severely in need of some organization. Scraps of paper hung from all flat surfaces, small jars of dyes in clusters blossomed along the window ledges. Bunches of worn quills were stationed on almost every piece of furniture and unfurled skyward like ferns. Indeed, the Abbot had perfected the art of cultivating the garden of orderly chaos.

"Yes, but I'm afraid that may have to wait. Ma Mellus is in dire need of your help…"

"Let me take a guess… Nathaniel and Thatcher, am I right?"

Loic nodded. "Yes, I am actually en route to acquiring the assistance of Mr. and Mrs. Bellmaker myself. Mellus is in the orchard, though I'm fairly certain you could hear her from here."

Abbot Saxtus leaned back. "Quite. You may continue. If you see Mellus, do tell her that I'm on my way."

The French mouse nodded, sprinting back out of the room.

The Abbot chuckled, "To think our Champion's son would be so—"

"Father Abbot?" An older mousemaid poked her head in to door, "Is that a secret I hear?"

Saxtus smiled, getting out of his seat. "Of course not, Sister Heather. My, my, you're more beautiful every time I see you."

Sister Heather shook her head, "Dirty old man!"

"Hey!"

"Well, am I here to chat or to clean?" The sister looked at the abbot with annoyance.

"Right, start without me; seems some trouble has been caused downstairs."

"Hmhm, I have a hard time believing that, Father. You are as lazy as you are wise!"

"It's Nathaniel and Thatcher." He replied simply.

"Never mind," the sister shook her head, "That I have no trouble with!" She crossed her arms. "Well, hurry up! For all we know, the cellar could be on fire."

"I hope not! That would be a complete waste of perfectly good wine! See you soon, Sister Heather!" He caught her wink as the door shut.

-==-

_In the hall…_

-==-

Loic ran, determination in his every step. Sandal wood felt hard under his paws, the deep red walls decorated with metal shields and relics passed by in a blur. He heard the sound of laughter and glanced through the four-way cross section to his right. A corridor over, he could faintly see the outlines of two figures. With an evil grin, he turned. He was in pursuit.

The criminals were oblivious of their predator. "There's a good chance we won't be able to talk our way out of this one, friend." one joked.

"That may be the case, but let us die with honor!" the other shouted dramatically.

"You mean… hide in the cellar?"

"Wha' – No! Never! I mean, why you would even think . . . Actually…" Thatcher laughed nervously.

"Of course," Nathaniel rolled his eyes.

"Promise me this, my friend," The otter put a tender paw on Nathaniel's shoulder.

"Yes?"

"If I don't get out of this alive… tell Opa… I love her." He looked upward with wistful eyes. Nathaniel burst into laughter, "Sure, but I highly doubt she'll return the feelin'."  
"So? It's _my_ death wish!" Thatcher pouted. He looked back over his shoulder. "Ey, we got a problem."  
Nathaniel looked questioningly at his friend, "Hmm?"  
"Look fer yourself." he replied, he motioned with his head to the side.  
Nathaniel did. "Seriously?" he groaned. "Okay, here's what we do…"  
Nathaniel whispered to his partner in crime. They nodded to each other. At the next cross section, they split. Loic flicked his eyes back and forth, panicked. _To hell with it! _In a split-second decision, he turned after Nathaniel. "Get back here!" he cried.  
Nathaniel called back over his shoulder, "Will do! But first, you 'ave to get off yer high horse, Apple King!"

Loic. nearly screamed with rage. "You dirty _stupid_ sonofarat of a moron!"

"That's a little below the belt, don'cha think?" Nathaniel teased.

He was nearing the end of the hall. Loic was nearing the end of his rope.

"Stop!" the French mouse yelled in a last ditch effort. The heat he felt in his face was enough to show his embarrassment.

Nathaniel seized the opportunity, swinging himself atop a stairway banister. He balanced on the dark, smooth wood with arms spread wide.

"Anything for you, Frenchy." He paused, allowing Loic to catch up. When Loic finally got within reach, Nathaniel winked with an innocent wave and gave in to gravity.

"Bu-bye!"

Loic's pupils shrunk. "No, no, no, _no_!"

He lunged for Nathaniel, his fingers ghosting across his shirt. He missed by less than an inch. He could only stare agape as his rival fell smirking into the obsidian oblivion that was the center of the five story staircase. The mouse cursed, pulling at his ears furiously, then sprinted down the stairs.

Nathaniel let himself fall freely, enjoying the cool, damp air pulsing past his form. It caught under his shirt and grazed his chest, escaping through the neck hole and separating around his face. It was so tempting to get lost in the adrenaline-filled sensation. But to succumb would mean a very painful and messy end. Not pleasant.

He reached out into the blur, searching for a wooden rung identical to the one he had been balancing on moments before. He barley caught it, and closed his eyes for the inevitable smack against the wall that was sure to come.

_SMACK!_

"Ow…"

-==-

_With Thatcher…_

-==-

The dexterous otter slid between empty sets of armor. He couldn't hear anyone behind him. He stopped mid-stride as a set of voices entered his range.

"But Opa, we need to get to the kitchen! We have to deliver these and I don't—"

"Calm yerself! That ol' cook can wait!"

"But O, they'll go bad!"

"You know what's gone bad? Your sense of adventure!"

"I . . . Who needs adventure? If I can be safe an' happy then why . . ."

The corners of his mouth turned up in a tiny smile. _Only Jun and Opa. _

_Opa… _

His heart contracted, pulling a familiar emotion to the front of his chest. He brushed it off. "Nonsense, I'm only foolin' around." He paused. "That gives me an idear…"

The two maids were having a rather one-sided discussion that involved Opa being, well, _herself_ and Jun backing into the hole that created her meekness.

"I don't think we should be so… _secluded_ all the time! Y' understand?"

"Oh. Well… okay." She looked down, "Sure."

"We women are strong! Surely Mariel shows us that! She's a testament to the power of us females. She fended off a whole pack of hell-bent vermin! The lousy fleas deserve worse than good ol' Mariel gave 'em!" Opa's eyes sparked with admiration. "If it were I out there, I'd round 'em up and burn 'em alive…"

"Opa!"

"What? It's true, isn't it? Live by the flame, die by the flame. They got what they deserved!" She stamped her foot form irritation. Her mind fogged over with rage. "Now, I know I'm bein' violent, but Jun… My whole holt… Gone. Murdered by them vermin. I'll ne'r forget the day…"

She flinched as a paw touched her shoulder.

"Opy… you're alive, aren't ya? You made it alright…"

"Aye, but not my friends! Was only me, my pa, and a handful of relatives that made it, you know that!" She turned from her friend. "My baby brother… I can't even picture his face anymore. He was so little. I just don't… understand… I—" The maid could say no more.

Jun stayed silent. She opened her mouth, but no words came. She put down her basket to hug the grieving otter. "Shh… Opa, shh," she comforted.

Opa sniffed, wiping the shells of stray tears from her eyes. "Thanks, Jun. You're the best friend a gal could 'ave, you know that?" she joked warmly.

Jun smiled in return, "I know." She hesitated. "So… what say we go watch my future boyfriend get apprehended?"

Opa responded with a deep chuckle. "Finally grew some spine, I see? Let's do it then!"

Thatcher waited around the corner. He had snitched one of the fiercely decorated wooden shields from the walls, figuring it would make a decent mask. He had heard none of their conversation. He leapt from his hiding place.

"Boo!"

"AAH!"

Thatcher quirked an eyebrow behind the impromptu mask. _Only one scream...?_

He lowered the shield, only to find he was face to face with a pissed off ottermaid.

"Thatcher! You God-awful,"

"_Ow_!"

"Frog-bellied,"

"_Ow_!"

"Big-mouthed,"

"_Ow_!"

"Miscreant! What is wrong with you? For ten minutes - ten minutes! - can you leave well enough alone? Have you no head on your shoulders? I swear, for every time-"

Jun huffed, scooting from her terrified stance of the floor to pick up the scattered contents of her basket. "Perfect, now there all ruined! Nobody likes bruised apples in their pie," she growled. She had half a mind to go and assist Opa in beating Thatcher over the head with that shield.

"-and next time, try thinking before you do something stupid!"

Thatcher uncovered his hands from his head. "Yes mother," he lipped.

A semi-pulped apple bashed him in the side of the head. Opa glanced to the side to see Jun toting the red produce in her hand. She smiled. "How

do you like _them_ apples?"

Opa grinned. "Nice shot!"

Thatcher was forgotten. They continued on their way, chattering.

Thatcher cracked open his eyes from where he lay on the floor and sighed, wiping apple pulp off his face. "Lesson one. Never frighten a girl. They travel in packs."

-==-

_Onto the issue regarding Nathaniel…_

-==-

Nathaniel dashed through doors, his mind working like clockwork. He looked out a window, forgetting where he was going. "Ah!" He collided with a vase filled with fresh, sunshine yellow daffodils. Time slowed as he reached for the falling item, its intricate purple lacing stretching across the glazed surface like cobweb. The impact was devastating. It shattered on the hardwood floor, sending jagged shards flying and a resounding _crash_ echoed throughout the tea room. He gritted his teeth as blood started to seep from a gash is his arm inflicted by the sharp, broken pottery. "God," he cursed, "can't a guy get a break?"

"Seemingly not."

The bleeding mouse groaned. He looked out of the corner of his eye at the doorway where a breathless Loic stood.

"Finally… gotcha," he breathed, advancing. "It's over."

Nathaniel just snorted, dabbing at the cut with his sleeve. "Give it a rest already. Even if ye did get me, you can't _do_ nothin'!" He smirked, "You're jus' a little know-it-all who's so lost, 'e can't tell his friends from his enemies, or couldn't if 'e _had_ any!"

Not. Another. Word," Loic threatened.

"Yeah, yeah. You know what? You're a king." He smiled coldly. "A king, Frenchy."

He gasped as Loic's foot dug into his back, his face slammed against the floor.

"Shut up!" the French mouse cried.

Nathaniel, though the breath was being crushed out of him, persisted. "A King of Apples!"

Loic pressed harder, squeezing his eyes shut in childish rage. "I _said_ shut up!"

Loic felt Nathaniel cease struggling beneath him. "What happened? Weren't we… friends once?" The pressure on Nathaniel's back eased a bit.

"I… I don't…"

In an instant, Nathaniel had gained the upper hand by taking advantage of Loic's confused state. He rolled onto his back, grabbing hold of Loic's footpaw and twisting it painfully to the side. He forced Loic to the ground and with his free hand pulled Loic's arm up behind his back. The tip of Loic's nose was just inches away from the sharp shards from the vase.

"Ow! Nathaniel, stop! That hurts, lemme go!"

"On one condition."

"What?"

"Leave me alone for the rest of the day."

"No!"

Nathaniel twisted his paw further, pulling another gasp from Loic.

"Aah! Ow, okay, okay! Just let go! That really hurts!"

"Like heck it does. I don't believe you. I want your word."

"On my mother's grave I'll leave you alone!"

"And Thatch."

"Him, too!"

"Say the whole thing, please."

"I swear on my mother's grave that I'll leave you and Thatcher alone for the rest of the day!"

"Fine," he sighed, "I guess I have no choice but to trust you." He looked at the growing splash of red in his fur. "An' one more thing."

"That is?"

"Give me some of your shirt."

"And if I say no?"

"Then I break your arm off. Yur choice, Frenchy."

"Okay! Just… not to big of a piece. This was m' favorite shirt…"

Nathaniel huffed, tearing a small strip of cloth from the end of Loic's tunic with his free hand. He reluctantly released his capture and tied the cloth around his upper arm. Loic scrambled away from the sharp pottery as soon as he could.

"Hey, Nathaniel!" called another voice.

Nathaniel glanced over his shoulder. "Hey, Thatcher. Let's go!" He turned one last time to the French mouse kneeling on the floor. "Oh, and sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"C'mon!"

He gave Loic one last look before taking off after his friend. "Whatever," he mumbled.

It wasn't long before they reached the main hallway. Again they passed the grand tapestry of Martin the Warrior, and the door to the dining hall, and the passage to the kitchens and cellar. Finally, they arrived at the double doors that marked the main exit of the abbey building.

"Wasn't that exciting!" sighed Thatcher.

"You know it!" Nathaniel agreed. "Except for that run-in with that vase…" He flinched, glancing at his wound.

"And havin' Opa beat me ov'r the head…" Thatcher added.

"Everything turned out okay!" Nathaniel spun lazily as they walked.

"For once." Thatcher replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, I know. Seems like something always has to go terribly, horribly…" Nathaniel was just about to open the doors when they swung open on their own. There, on the other side, was a colossal white entity whose hulking form blocked both the sun and any means of passage.

"…wrong." The mouse finished feebly.

The boys stood frozen in shock for a millisecond. Then-

"RUN!"

They tried to escape, but were caught by their shirt collars and lifted into the air by the colossal ghost.

"Nathaniel! I don't want to die!" the otter screamed.

"Thatcher!" Nathaniel snapped.

The otter continued to whine theatrically, "All the pranks I could have pulled, gone! All that time wasted, wasted, wasted!"

"_Thatcher!_"

"What? Can't you see I'm _freaking out_ here?"

"Thatcher! Calm down! It's Mellus!"

The otter was not to be reasoned with, "Who?"

"Ma Mellus!"

"Mellus is a ghost?"

"Thatch…" Nathaniel face-palmed.

The otter gasped in realization, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, Ma!"

"Thatcher! I'm very much alive, but no help from you!"

At the sound of the badgermum's voice, Thatcher stopped thrashing. "Phew, that's good. For a second I thought you were dead!" They stared for a moment, Thatcher's innocent, exaggerated face against Mellus' stony one. Mellus growled, throwing the two outside.

"Now, please," began Mellus, "explain to me why…?" She motioned to her torso.

"Well, Mellus, you see…" Nathaniel began.

"I've heard enough" Mellus interrupted.

"You didn't even give us a chance to explain ourselves, Mellus! Come now, 'ave a heart!" he pleaded.

"I'd stow wit' the talking, mate." Thatcher elbowed him. "Looks to me like we can't badger our way out 'o this one. Get it? Oh, I'm so funny…"

Nathaniel had to hide his smile behind his hand. Jun and Opa appeared on Mellus' left. Thatcher tipped Opa a wink. Jun giggled, but Opa turned away, mumbling something about Thatcher getting a black eye in the near future.

Mellus stomped her heavy foot, bringing the boys to attention. "Now, I don't even know how you did this, and quite frankly I could care less! You… I am through with your childish antics!" She sighed. "And look at your arm! What in Mossflower did you do to scrape yourself like that? It's time you learn you can't always get out of trouble with a wave of your paw."

Nathaniel looked down at his feet, grumbling. "But apparently, we can rig a door that'll douse a badger in enough flour to-"

Mellus pointed at Nathaniel. "I said I didn't want to know!"

"Great seasons, Mellus, I knew there was trouble but I hardly expected this to be the reason!" Abbot Saxtus appeared on Mellus' right. "I say, is that flour?"

"Yes, it is! Can't go a day around here without something being tainted by these two." She clicked her tongue. "I miss the days when you could raise a child to do right by bein' good an' wholesome. But apparently, not all the rearing in the world could set these beasts straight!" she shot the two imps a furious glare. They glared right back.

The abbot stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I have no choice but to put you two on kitchen duty until all that flour can be replaced."

"Again, you've given us no trial! I hardly find that fair," bargained Nathaniel.

Thatcher cleared his throat. "I will be performing as this young man's lawyer for the crime, which as of present, he did not commit! Your Honor, it is my civil duty to see that he goes free unscathed"

Playing along, the Abbot replied, "Hmm, well, as judge, ruler, and overall dictator of the Redwall court, I override said action and place both of you on parole!"

They were ready to defend their case to the end. "But—"

"Nathaniel; Thatcher, why am I not surprised? I think that's enough excitement for one day."

Nathaniel turned, smiling sheepishly at the newcomer. "Dad! C'mon, just a little help?"

Dandin Bellmaker, Champion of Redwall, stood with his arms folded across his chest. Next to him, looking quite pleased with himself, was Loic.

_You dirty traitor, going back on your word! ____Nathaniel scowled. _

Thatcher smiled, "Mister B, what a pleasant surpri—"

Mellus yanked on his tail. "Thatcher, I'll leave you in tears if you don't quit that! Your pleasantries, I'll bend them around your head, see if I don't!"

Thatcher blanked, "Wow, I completely forgot how truly scary you can be at times, Ma. Congratulations."

Nathaniel looked around. There they were, completely surrounded. Abbot Saxtus, Dandin, Loic, Jun, Opa, and Mellus. He could even see Sister Heather a few stories up, looking down upon the spectacle, feather duster in hand.

_Surrounded…_

_Trapped…_

He shook his head, returning his father's stern gaze, "I didn't… we- I you'll let me tell my side, I can…"

Nothing was working.

"Sorry."

Dandin tapped his foot, "Sorry can't fix anything, son." He looked to Thatcher. "Nor will it soften the worry in dear Mariel's heart, that accounts for the both out you."

Thatcher hung his head, "Geez, I didn't mean to scare Mrs. Mariel atall." He could almost hear the drums pounding out the beat of his execution. Nathaniel gazed over the heads of the onlookers into the horizon, avoiding his father's stare.

Abbot Saxtus stepped forward. "Then it's settled. One month of kitchen duty with Friar Alder. No dinner tonight, and toast and tea for breakfast all this week. Do I make myself clear?"

The two boys nodded solemnly.

Dandin sighed. "I think that seems suitable." He placed his paw on Nathaniel's wounded shoulder. "Sonny, you get that battle wound bandaged. Later, we're going to have a talk."

_A 'talk'. Joy. _

The Abbot fingered his spectacles. "Then, everything seems to be in order. Ma Mellus, please, take as long a bath as you wish. We'll send someone out to wash your apron in the morning. Girls, don't those apples have someplace to be? Dandin, thank you for your assistance. Loic, you are dismissed." With those simple words, the Abbot had cleared to orchard. He gazed over at the troublemakers. "I am disappointed in you…" He smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood. "But I think I'll let your father will be the one to give you that speech. I you ever have any free time, feel free to come up to my office…" He leaned in. "I'm very curious as to how you preformed such a stunt." He chuckled, escorting them into the abbey.

Thatcher smiled. "Well, if you must know, it was a simple feat in counter cross-producing mechanics. It's like a small catapult, except you change…"

Nathaniel removed himself from the group. He smiled at the thought of Abbot Saxtus understanding a single thing Thatcher talked about. He caught a glimpse of the setting sun over the Redwall gate, but decided against sneaking out to watch it and pulled the door closed.

"Hey, Nathaniel…"

Nathaniel didn't even have to look to see who it was. Only one mouse would have such a small voice that reminded him of fresh peaches. If peaches could talk, they would all sound like Jun - well the good ones anyways.

"Hey," he turned towards her.

She blushed, "I was wondering… I mean… You're not getting any dinner, so I thought…" She pulled a claret apple out and held it to Nathaniel.

He hesitated a bit, before breaking out in a smile. "Jun, you're a life saver."

Her heart fluttered.

"Any time," she giggled. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "So, you see, I don't really want to be in trouble, so if someone asks you where you got that, it wasn't from me, 'kay?" She smiled warmly, before turning and running off down a corridor. "Bye, Nathaniel!"

He leaned up against the door. "Y'know, there are a lot of things I can figure out, but never Jun. She's not shy, but she acts shy, and… I'm talking to myself, aren't I?"

He sighed. An apple…so many variations; each with its own imperfections. This apple seemed perfect – deep red in color and shiny as a still pond on a clear day. He took a bite. A crisp, hard sound that was reminiscent of autumn and a sweet, bitter flavor hard sought after. He tossed it in the air, loving the thud as it landed in his palm. A smile graced his lips.

_Everything's gonna be alright…_

_

* * *

_

**Turned out WAY different then intended, but that's not always a bad thing! I wish I had a machine that you could but on like a kat and it translated all your thoughts and ideas into books, a movie, a soundtrack, and a comic. That would be so amazing. Sigh...**

**Please review! You want the story to get better? Than TELL ME HOW! I can;t do it without you guys! **

**Love,**

**smileyfox5150**


	3. BURN

**Wow, where did I get this from…**

**I am back after what, a year? More? Insanity. **

**I want to fix the mistakes in ch. 1 and 2, and I know there is continuity error but hey, I do what I want.**

**Dark chapter! Short chapter! Random but important for later chapter!**

**I need to sleep more…**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_And no rivers and no lakes_

_can put the fire out._

_I'm gonna raise the stakes,_

_I'm gonna smoke you out._

_- Florence + the Machine, Seven Devils_

-=BURN=-

"GET OUT!"

"LEAVE!"

"This way, men! We must capture the vermin!"

"For our safety!"

"For our city!"

"For our king!"

The livid crowd raised their fists high in agreement, sending forth calls of action and anger. Many of the rabble had kitchen knives or heavy farming tools gripped tight in their clenched paws. Ash rose into the death black air from a large bonfire nearby, and the gesticulating light cast grim palls over the fearsome, rough faces twisted into disfiguring rage. A mouse clothed in black and linen and gold stood on a box at the front of the mob, and stretched fourth a paw and spoke over the cacophony.

"Brothers! This wolf in sheep's clothing has hidden among us for too long! Surely with this many in our ranks, we shan't fail! It is our duty," he continued with vigor, "to cleanse our beautiful city Eathon, and expel this, this beast from her!"

The mob swarmed. Catcalls rang out like the buzzing of wasps, agitated and trembling.

Their leader smiled at his wrathful creation. "Follow me!"

Their feet created a noise like thunder, the torches above their heads like Will-o-the-Wisps. They paraded through the narrow streets of their 'beautiful' city, urged on by their wives and children calling out of their little windows above.

The leader motioned for the mob to stop, which they did. He raised his torch to read the sign above the door, which read _Ale an' Arrow Tavern_. He rapped three times on the door.

A scuffling could be heard from the inside, and soon the door was cracked open to reveal a sliver of an otter's face.

The portly creature smiled quickly at the leader. "Sorry, good sir, we've closed for the-"

The leader paid no mind. He brushed past the otter, glancing around his establishment.

"… night."

He turned back to the otter, who was nervously watching the mob. "I don't understand, sir-"

"Are you the owner of this… fine establishment?"

The otter stammered. "Well, yes, but-"

"It's come to my attention that you may be harboring an illegal vermin, is this true?" he continued with an almost sly assurance.

The otter blinked, and pushed his dingy cap further back. "My home is always open to the weary traveler. Please, sir, I haven't done anything wrong!"

The mouse looked down upon the pleading inn owner. "We shall see. Men! Search the house!"

The mob broke loose in a whirlwind. They poured into the tavern, overturning tables and barrels. Someone upstairs screamed.

"Please!" the otter grasped at the lead-mouse's tunic. "We have nothing to hide! There is but me, my wife, and two men that have paid for a night's stay! I have done nothing to deserve my home being ransacked!"

He paid the owner no mind, merely taking a moment to brush him off with a look of mild disgust.

"'Ey! Mista Mayor!"A younger mouse from the mob came towards them through the clamor. "_It_ was definitely 'ere. Look!"

He displayed a small ash color pouch made from hawthorn fiber to the lead-mouse, and tipped its contents onto his other hand. There were dozens of small, black marbles, each papery to the touch.

The Mayor reached a hand forward in wonder, forgetting about the situation completely. "Incredible."

He spoke to the cowering otter without looking at him. "You and all current members of this household are placed under house arrest until this monster can be apprehended."

"I swear, sir, I have committed no crime! Please, understand!"

"In due time, my good man." He turned to the other mouse. "Tell me, what more was there?"

"Yeah, there was more of 'em upstairs, eh, things I mean. Likes, ah, an arrow, but no bow to it. A sack 'o apples… th' bed was mussed, an' th' window was wide open. It was 'ere, for certain. Knew we were comin', too. Crafty devil of a creature…"

Some other creature bumped into his from behind. It startled him from his daze, causing the marble to slip from his hand and fall to the floor. "Oh n-!"

_PFFFFFT! _

As soon as it reached the ground, a great cloud of black smoke enveloped the room, causing total loss of vision and clean air.

The mayor threw his arm around his mouth in the hopes his tunic would filter some of the smoky air. "Men!" he yelled out, swallowing a cough. "Out of the building! Back to the streets!"

They needn't be told twice.

The Mayor barred the door behind him, coughing a few times before addressing the crowd. "The inn owner and his family are herby accused of harboring a dangerous criminal, lying to the law, and betraying this city!" He grabbed a torch from the mouse who had brought him the smoke-screens. "And until the building smoulders, they are guilty!"

The mob yelled, ready for justice. The Mayor raised his torch, setting fire to the low-hanging tavern roof.

Desperate pleads from the otter and his wife could be faintly heard through the door.

As the flames licked at the windows, the Mayor looked to the younger tan mouse. "What is your name, son?"

"Eh, me?" he questioned.

"Yes."

"I'm Riff!"

"Thank you for your help, Riff." He turned and began walking in the direction they came.

"Eh, where ya headed, Mista Mayor?" Riff called.

"Back to the camp. I trust you'll all come back once the fire has settled. We have a long night ahead of us!"

"Yes, sir!"

The raging red at his back warmed him as he walked away, the silenced screams from inside the tavern almost as sick as the smirk on his face.

Just on the outskirts of Eathon, a lone creature peered through the tree branches, watching the smoke curl its long fingers up into the dark sky.

"I am sorry," the creature whispered against the bark. "I did not wish another innocent to die…"

Her long, sleek tail hung like a waif, the peaked tip revealing the creature's race.

Fox.

Her fur immersed her in the shows that clung to her like water, her black eyes with engorged pupils giving her a view as clear as day. Two canines jutted sharply over her bottom lip, one of the few contrasts on her countenance.

She flicked her ears.

She vanished.

* * *

**Not expecting any reviews… but as I have said, they are my crack. **

**Love,**

**smif**


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